


year of the wheel

by saturnsage



Category: Sons of Satan: The Mortal Coil (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnsage/pseuds/saturnsage
Summary: (It was not pretty to see him Fall. You clung to his hand, and then they forced you away from him.I’m so sorry, he cried out, wings limp.I love you, you answered.AND BECAUSE WE LOVE YOU, WE DO THIS. They answered.HOLY, HOLY, HOLY.And Micheal screamed. And Israfel wept.And he fell.And you will never see him again.)





	year of the wheel

**Author's Note:**

> haven't thought about Them in a hot minute. needed to change that

_Year of the Wheel_

It’s raining again, the sky dark and cold, and you walk.   
  
It’s not something you used to do, but compromises have to be made. There’s no such thing as flying here, not really. All there is the jump, that too-fast second of reaching the highest point, and the falling.   
  
A constant battle between up and down, up and down. Up and down.

And so, you walk. There are cars and there are people walking past you, and none of them mean much, all rushing to get out of the weather.  It’s not so bad for you. It’s a different experience every-time it rains, every single drop of water different and cold. You want to raise your head up, let your cheeks catch the rain and sink into your skin.   
  
“Gabriel,” He says, exasperated. “Could you go any slower?”   
  
You want to answer: “ _I have been going so fast my whole existence that I cannot stop. Sometimes I think about how much I have missed. Holy, holy, holy.”_  
  
Instead, you answer:  “Of course. My apologies.” and you catch up to his quick pace.

Your hand aches to hold his. Never has it hurt for a branding that has not happened. 

_I have been going so fast in my whole existence that I have forgotten small pains and old hurts. Is that why you tread so quickly?  
_

_Running is nowhere near to flying.  
  
_ He doesn’t hear you when you think that. His Grace is severed, and nothing you say will get through to him. A battle of up and down, up and down.   
  
_______  
  
 _Year of our Lord_  


When you first gained your last set of wings, it hadn’t hurt. It felt like a thrill, like you were being molded and created once more. Soft and downy as they were, you still ran your hands through them, twisting and turning to see them flutter high and low at your command.   
  
The Grace network was just as overjoyed with it as you, and thousands of your kin rang out in harmony and approval. A rise in the ranks for an angel meant prestige, meant respect. Bells ringing in your Grace, streams of congratulations and high regards.   
  
For a second, for a small, tiny second, you felt stronger than all of them.   
  
And then the feeling left, forgotten in between all of your brothers and sisters reaching out to you.   
  
Back in your resting place, your nestmates all scrambled to lie on the same bed, overgrown and stuffy as it may have been. Ramiel was the same as before, wide smiles and booming laughs, but you’ve never seen Micheal so docile, Izarafel so proud.

“It was a matter of time before you would earn such an honor,” Izarafel said, preening your wings as he praised you, “I have always known you were special.”  
  
“Hush, Iz, you sound as if you are not an archangel as well.”

A soft laugh escaped Ramiel then. “No, Gabby.” He said, and his black eyes shone as much as his form, “He means it. You’re fated for great things.”   
  
Micheal, eyes shut, relishing the feeling of his hair being braided by Ramiel. “…Perhaps.”   
  
Perhaps, perhaps.   
  
The image of the Morning Star flashes, his wings ripped and torn. How brightly he fell, the grandest star in the sky, thrown to the earth. How he looked at you for a minute, and something in his expression showed an emotion whose name does not exist.   
  
And then the image left, forgotten between your nestmates affection reaching out to you.   
  
Perhaps.   
  
 _Be good, he said._

_I’m sorry, he said._

_And then he landed in the pit of hell, and the last of his wings burned away, surrounded by the broken bodies of his followers.  
_

You do not remember that. After all, you were small and insignificant, and your wings too cherubic to mourn. Why would you mourn? The Morning Star was always dark. __  
____  
  
(It was not pretty to see him Fall. You clung to his hand, and then they forced you away from him.   
  
I’m so sorry, he cried out, wings limp.   
  
I love you, you answered.   


**_AND BECAUSE WE LOVE YOU, WE DO THIS._ ** _They answered.  
  
_ **_HOLY, HOLY, HOLY.  
  
_ ** _And Micheal screamed. And Israfel wept.  
  
And he fell.  
  
And you will never see him again.)  
  
____ **_  
  
_ ** _Year of the Wheel_

Daniel runs up to you, shrieking, smile wide and bright. Immediately you crouch down to welcome him into an embrace, and the collision is stronger than you expected, so you stumble.   
  
“Gabby!” He giggles, and your throat constricts with so much love that it threatens to boil over as you hold him.   
  
What would you not do for this child? You would extinguish hell. You would destroy entire universes. You would become mortal.   
  
If this love is anything like God’s then surely, surely, surely He is-  
  
“Gabby, are we going?” Daniel whispers to your shoulder with excitement. “I wanna see your friends!”   
  
You laugh in return, slowly fumbling up into a standing position, the boy in your arms hanging tightly. “Fear not, little one, soon.” Gently, you rub the boy’s back in soothing gestures.   
  
He is to meet your co-workers in the police department, mostly because they have asked to see him. After one to many requests it would have seemed rude to deny them so many times.   
  
Ramiel looks at the two of you with a complicated face. He doesn’t come closer.   
  
“Huh,” He says. “Didn’t think that’s why you’re here.”   
  
You look at him and lock eyes. His are brown, tired. Human. You cannot see what he thinks through them; unreadable as a demon.   
  
That’s what he is now, no? One of them. An extinguished light that never shone.

No.   
  
Not him.

In answer, you nod. “I am Daniel’s caretaker, yes.” You don’t tell him because God told you to. It seems uncouth.   
  
“Who are you? Gabby’s friend?” Daniel asks, head swerving to meet Ramiel’s watch.   
  
Ramiel is silent for only a second, and the smile is weak when he says, “That’s up to Gabriel, kiddo.”   
  
Your heart pangs in your chest.

( _I love you, you answer_.)

He does not expect an answer, but Daniel does.   
  
TRUTH OR DECEPTION?   
  
TRUTH:  
  
“Perhaps, little one.”   
  
DECEPTION:  
  
“It is not important.”


End file.
